Only in the door for five seconds, and Freya’s already preventing my mind from careening down Depression Drive before taking the on-ramp to the Freak-out Freeway.
Bless her precious heart — non-ironically.
She plops the remaining bags on the kitchen counter and shakes her hands.
While Freya and I unload the groceries, I decide to take the opportunity to talk to her about what I’m unable to discuss with Stella due to my fear of spontaneous sex tape leakage. And they don’t make protective undergarments for that.
“Sooo James and I did a thing.”
She pauses, her hand dangling over the dozen eggs she’s transferring to the tray in the fridge. “Honey, I bet you do a lot of things with James. And judging by the sounds that often come from your room, you enjoy those things, which is always a plus.”
On autopilot, I stack and restack the boxes of macaroni and cheese in the pantry with trembling hands. “This was a new thing, and it led to something rather reckless.”
She throws the empty egg carton in the recycle bin, then leans on the counter, facing me. “What’s going on?”
I close the pantry door and nibble on the inside of my cheek. “We... um... made a sex tape. Well, not a tape, because who has those anymore. But we recorded it on my phone.”
Grabbing my hand, she pulls me toward the high-top barstools. “Come into my office, honey.” Once we’re seated, she pins me with a serious glare. “You consented to this, right? James didn’t—”
I cut her off immediately. “It was entirely consensual. He would never force me to do anything.”
“I didn’t think so. But the way you’re acting had me worried for a second. So what’s the situation?”
“The recording isn’t really important. It’s what happened while we were watching it that has me shittin’ bricks.”
She looks expectantly at me, her face free of judgment.
I swallow around a lump in my throat and force out the words. “I was so hot and bothered that I instigated a very intense and sudden round of sexy times, but I forgot to put a condom on him.” Slamming my eyes shut, I bury my face in my hands.
Freya lets me hide for a second before saying, “Lettie, I have to stop you right there.”
I glance in her direction without meeting her eyes. “What?”
“You aren’t the only person responsible for protection. It takes two to tango, and I’m pretty damn shocked he’d forget something like that. But we’re all human. How you said you didn’t put a condom on him versus something like we forgot to use a condom, makes me a bit stabby. Did he blame you for it?”
Her statement gives me pause. My shoulders hit the stool’s backrest as I stare off into the distance.
Finally, I admit, “No. He didn’t say anything like that. In fact, he was apologizing profusely for most of the night.”
“Thank fuck. Because I’ll kick a Dom in his taint so fucking fast if he even dares to pull that bullshit.” She blows a raspberry, then playfully nudges my arm. “Sounds like you’re just blaming yourself, which is on brand for you.”
Through a tight-lipped chuckle, I quip, “Welcome to the Guilt Hotel, where there are no vacancies ‘cause Lettie’s taken all the rooms.”
Freya piles onto the sub-par joke. “Bitch checked in, but she could never check out.”
I exhale and bury my face back in my hands. “Argh. What am I going to do?”
“Aren’t you on birth control?”
My hands fall, but I keep my head down. “No, I’m not.”
“Okaaay.” The way she draws out the word makes it seem like an implied question.
I meet her eyes and see the inquiry etched onto her pretty face. “I still have issues with it.”
“Although I’m not implying birth control is only the woman’s responsibility, I’ve just found it’s often easier than trusting a man. You don’t have to answer this next question. I’m just curious why you aren’t on it. Is it medical?”
After I give her an abbreviated version of my religious upbringing, I eventually meander to the point du jour. “Given my feelings on regular birth control, you can imagine my surprise when James presented me with a package of morning after pills no more than one hour after the incident.”